I was in Wuhan (yes, THAT Wuhan) 17 years ago today (March 12, 2003) when WHO issued a global alert about a new infectious disease of unknown origin in southern China and Hong Kong: SARS.
(FYI: reading about the severity and death-rate of SARS makes COVID-19 seem a bit less intimidating)
Still a teenager, traveling without a laptop or cell phone in a world where the only internet connection was to be found in smoky “cafes” (and where knowledge about the disease was being suppressed), I was completely unaware of the epidemic that was just beginning to my south.
I was new to China, having arrived just two months before, and I had just spent the previous week with my small team (Australians and one fellow American) exploring and researching the area in and around Wuhan for future ministry opportunities.
I have many fond memories from that week spent in Wuhan, but admittedly the details have begun to fade. Instead I remember particular glimpses, scenes, feelings, sights, smells, and conversations. China was still new to me, so almost everything was fresh and strange and exciting.
I remember tasting my first “baozi” (tasty little steamed buns filled with pork) from a street vendor on a cold morning just down the road from our hotel. I had no idea what to expect, but the flavor of the bite-sized buns was amazing (as well as the price, just a few cents each).
I remember wandering down a cramped alleyway late one evening and having to step out of the way for men to make their way past as they pushed wooden one-wheeled carts (big wheelbarrows) full of coal down the road to whatever was their destination (most likely a large coal-fired water heater of some sort).
I remember befriending the young Chinese-Muslim men at their noodle shop just down the street from our hotel, and eating more steaming hot bowls of beef noodle soup than I needed, just for another opportunity to sit with them and practice speaking and reading Chinese (with my Chinese-English New Testament).
I remember wandering the dirt lanes and pathways (just a few yards off the big modern avenues) as they wound around murky ponds and homes crafted out of mud and brick, and alongside the small hills overlooking the mighty Yangtze River, with shy women and children staring curiously at the tall foreigner strolling by.
It wasn’t hard to imagine what missionaries like Hudson Taylor must’ve experienced as they first explored and preached in THIS SAME CITY over 150 years ago. What a humbling and exciting time it was for me 17 years ago, at the age of 19, to get to see and experience Wuhan for myself.
I have been back a few times since, and I hope and pray I’ll be able to visit again someday!
I came within about 8 miles (39,000 ft) of Wuhan on January 25, as my flight from Newark to Hong Kong flew almost directly over the city. Below is a picture I took of my plane’s flight tracker. The other picture is of a closed church in Wuhan being “disinfected”.
